The Kid With The Books
by imaginationisbetterthanlogic
Summary: This is about young Richard Castle and his love for books. Inspired by a Neil Gaiman quote.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything. Castle belongs to the all-mighty Andrew W. Marlowe, not me.

"My parents would frisk me before family events. Before weddings, funerals, bar mitzvahs, and what have you. Because if they didn't, then the book would be hidden inside some pocket or other and as soon as whatever it was got under way I'd be found reading in a corner. That was who I was. That was what I did. I was the kid with the book."

- Neil Gaiman

His mother was dragging him to yet another one of her cast parties. The parties where there were a lot of actors talking loud and with their egos bursting out the seems. These were always boring and he had begged her to not bring him, to just let him stay home and play. But of course she had said no. Of course.

She would drag him around for a while and show him off to the other cast members that would swoon and giggle when he said something cute and innocent. And then, when the other woman where tired of putting up with a five year old, she would drop him in some corner and tell him to stay there that she would come get him in a while.

It was always the same.

He didn't mind that she did that. It wouldn't scar him for life or anything. It was just how his mother was. She was a social butterfly. She needed attention.

In his short five years of life, Richard Rodgers had already accepted that. And he had a contingency plan, like every good spy.

After a while when his mother headed for the bar, leaving him in a chair in a corner far from all the alcohol, he opened his jacket and took the book that he had hid there with a smug smile.

He ran a hand trough the cover admiring all the colors it had and the letters that where in a sparkling green announcing the name of the book.

Rick traced the letters with his finger.

Peter Pan.

It was truly one of his favorite books. It was about a boy that lived in Neverland and he would never grow up.

He would like to never grow up. All the other adults where boring and serious, always worried about economics and work and blah! And that was why he would never ever grow up. He would stay a kid forever and keep playing. Just like Peter Pan!

He opened the book and started reading it, getting immediately lost in Neverland and Captain Hook and the crocodile that had eaten his hand.

He was halfway through the book when a woman with a sparkly dress and a glass of champagne in her hand taped him on the shoulder.

Rick reluctantly lifted his eyes from his book and looked at her.

"What are you doing, little boy?"

He smiled charmingly, like his mother had taught him too.

"I'm reading my book."

"You know how to read?"

"Yeah, I'm five. I'm the better reader in my class. My teacher gave me a lollypop and everything."

"Awww, you are so cute."

"Thank you, m'am." he said with a bright smile.

The woman smiled at him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, then she turned around and left, sloshing her champagne everywhere.

He brought his book back to his lap and opened it back to the page where he had been interrupted.

Before he started reading again, his eyes sweep the room, catching his mother's proud smile and wink.

He smiled back, happy to have made her proud, somehow; he got back to his reading.

He was in class taping his foot and glancing at the clock every five seconds.

Three minutes for recess.

He could feel the book with its heavy weight on his lap and he couldn't wait to get out there and start reading it.

As the bell rung, Rick quickly grabbed his book and run outside trying to get fast enough to his secret hiding place where the bullies would never find him. Being the smallest boy in the third grade wasn't easy and it didn't help that he was a little chubby.

He was almost there. Almost.

And suddenly an older boy grabbed him by his jacket, making him fall backwards landing with his but on the playground's dirty floor.

"Where are you going, Ricky?" the older boy asked with a snarling voice.

"Nowhere." he said trying to hide the book in the inside pocket of his jacket as best as he could.

Other two boys joined the first one, flanking him.

"Well, we haven't seen you all week. Where do you hide, fatty?"

He dusted his jacket and got up, making sure the book wouldn't fall from the inside pocket of his jacket.

"Why? Did you missed me, Chance?"

The older boy glared at him and cracked his knuckles, trying to scare him.

Rick stood his place, because really what was another black eye?! Besides, last time chance and his pack of wolves had gave him a shiner, the pretty girl from fourth grade took him to the infirmary and kissed him on the cheek.

So this time around, he decided to be brave like all the heroes in his books.

"Watch it, Rodgers or my fist will be in your face."

"Careful, don't break a nail Chase. I would hate to be the one to send you to the manicure."

The older boy gave him a hard shove, making him fall to the floor on his but and sending the book flying out of his pocket.

One of Chase's friends picked it up and tossed it to the other.

"What's that Rodgers?"

"A book. Now give it back."

"Treasure Island." Chase read when the other boy tossed the book over to him. "You're a dork." he mocked.

"Give it back."

Rick got up to his feet and ran to Chase that held the book high above his head and out of Rick's reach.

Rick started jumping and trying to reach for it without success.

When he was sweating and panting while the boys laughed at him hysterically, Rick took a step back.

"Chase, give me my book. Now!"

"Oh, poor baby. You gonna call your slutty mommy to come help you?" Chase said as he ripped the first page of his book.

Oh, God! His book!

Wait. What had he called his mother?

"What did you call my mother?" he said, his voice tinged with hate and red dots tanging his vision.

"You heard me. She's a slut!"

And that was the last drop for him.

Rick threw himself at the bully kicking him in the groin; as Chase fell on the floor with his hands on his junk, he let go of the book giving Rick a chance to catch it before it fell and ran for dear life.

He ran as fast as he could. He just had to reach the teacher watching over the kids in the other end of the park and he would be safe.

He just had to keep running. The secret to make a successful escape was to never look back.

Never look back. He repeated that like a mantra in his head over and over again.

But that didn't prevent him of doing the stupid mistake of looking back. Chase and the boys were chasing - was that ironic?! that he was being chased by a boy named Chase?! - after him, although Chase was walking in a funny way and was a little behind his boys. They were approaching him; they were faster, they were older and their legs were longer.

Rick looked in front again just in time to see the swings in front of his face and crashing with them, falling on his face.

Oh, crap!

He tried to get up again, but it was too late.

Chase caught up to him and he and the boys started kicking him while he as on the floor.

Rick flinched and hissed and rose his knees to protected his stomach and his arms to protect his face.

It seemed like it had been hours of kicks and insults when finally a teacher appeared to break it off.

The other boys were sent to detention and we was carried to the infirmary by the gym teacher.

He had a busted lip and was bleeding from his nose and apparently they seemed to had fractured one of his ribs; the school had to sent him to the hospital.

Well, mother wouldn't like that very much.

The only positive side was that his book was okay, safely tucked into his jacket where it belonged.

This was a sad day for everyone.

Someone had died, although Rick didn't knew who or of what. What he knew was that everyone was dressed in black and his mother had dragged him to the service and then to the cemetery where the man was being buried.

He had gone trough the service without the book that he managed to hide in his pants, and that was only because he was fascinated with the emotions on all the people's faces and how they all got up the little steps and peeked at the dead man in the casket and then started crying harder. It was fascinating how some of them looked down at the dead man and didn't show any emotions or showed the wrong emotions, like hate and envy. Fascinating.

His mother hadn't let him see the men, though. She just silently cried and dried her tears with a black handerkerchief.

But then when they were at the cemetery he got bored out of his mind because suddenly it wasn't fascinating anymore, so he went to the back and took his book off his pants and started reading.

When the man was six feet under and the people turned back to leave, they all passed by him with comments like "So rude." and "Who's his mother?" and that was when he realized that maybe some places weren't meant to read. That's when he realized that there were rules relating where you could and could not read. That's when he completely ignored those stupid rules and kept following Alice in the Wonderland while she talked with the smiling cat.

That was until his mother caught him and reprimanded him, taking his book away.

His mother stopped him short at the door of the church where they where to attend a wedding.

"Okay, hand it over, kiddo."

He blinked a couple of times, putting on his most innocent look.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, mother."

Mother put a hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, please Richard. Give me the book."

"What book?"

Mother huffed and waved her hand around.

"Don't make me frisk you."

"Once again, mother. I have no idea what you're talking about."

She squinted her eyes at him, but he didn't flinch and gave nothing away.

"Okay. You can keep it for the performance. You got my artistic vein, I see." she looked at him for a couple of seconds more, but he kept his facial expression innocent.

They had played this game numerous times. Martha would threaten to frisk him and take his book away, but if his performance of playing the innocent little boy that had no idea what she was talking about was good enough, she'd let him keep it.

And this time, apparently his performance was good enough, because his mother turned on her heels, making her colorful dress sway and entered the church.

Rick gave a sigh of relief and followed her inside.

Later, when the priest was marrying the two actors, Rick was in a corner in the church with The Chronicles of Narnia open on his lap as he followed the adventures of Lucy and Edmund and their annoying cousin.

When his mother found him, she had just tsked and shook her head while he smiled guiltily with big blue eyes and a "Sorry..." that he didn't really meant.

And has he grew up he kept having books with him. Richard Rodgers always had a book to read. He was a true believer that a childhood with book was the best lived childhood, so he loved and cared for all his books. And that was who he was. For his mother, for his mother's boyfriends and friends, for his friends and for himself. Richard was and still is the kid with the books.

**A/N: **Soooo, what do you think?

I read this Neil Gaiman quote and I just had to write this.

I might do one for Kate if there's a response to this one.


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